


Memoirs Of Candy (Tooru Oikawa)

by Baedeluxe



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, Cocaine, Cock Tease, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dark Comedy, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Español | Spanish, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Forehead Kisses, French Kissing, Gen, Gentle Kissing, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Japanese, Japanese Character(s), Jealous Oikawa Tooru, Kissing, Large Cock, Mild Sexual Content, Multiple Partners, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, New Year's Kiss, Oral Sex, Party, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possible Character Death, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, South America, Surprise Kissing, Switching, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Top Oikawa Tooru, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baedeluxe/pseuds/Baedeluxe
Summary: “You know...I never got to know your real name?”“I don’t think this is the right time to bring up something so trivial.”“I promise I won’t tell anyone about it...please? It’s not like I can anyway...considering the situation and all?”“It’s Y/N.”“That’s an ugly ass name,” he jokes, “I like Candy way better.”In which Oikawa is a drug dealerTooru Oikawa x female readerAUSet in the seventies, In Colombia
Relationships: Haikyuu!! Ensemble/Original Female Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I...wasn't supposed to share this now lmao but I really couldn't help myself. Kudos and Comments will be very much appreciated. Enjoyyy

Before we get started, I want to make some clarifications like I always do in all my stories, so please read this real quick just to get a general idea of what to expect. 

-This is written from the reader’s POV meaning there is use of the pronoun ‘ I ‘. It’s been a while since the last time I wrote using a reader’s POV but I wanted to try it again, especially that the story is named ‘Memoirs of Candy’ so it’s kind of like a diary. 

-This is not a self insert. I always say this, my characters and I have absolutely nothing in common and this is a fanfiction, meaning I write this for people to picture themselves in here. That’s the whole point really. Reader’s race isn’t mentioned, the same goes for weight, height...etc You know the drill.

-The character however is supposed to be Colombian (born and raised) but if you’re not Colombian, you can either picture yourself as half Colombian and half of whatever you are, or just ignore it really (I don’t think this should cause a problem because race isn’t the same as nationality)

-I am not Colombian and I hope no one gets offended. There isn’t really anything to worry about because I won’t be getting into the political side and all but if I do that, I will educate myself before including that aspect in the story.

-This book contains a lot of triggering subjects in addition to sexual content so read at your own risk.

-And Of course, I hope you enjoy whatever I have to give. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback!

Published on 13/ 12/ 2020.

Please do not copy or share on any type of social media/ writing platform 


	2. Octobre 1973

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Chapter is here, Can't wait to share more chapters with you uwu

**_Octobre 1973_ **

**_Medellin, Colombia_ **

I can remember vividly when my own mother threw the most vulgar dress towards me and that was the last time I had seen the nauseating expression on her revolting face before she kicked me to the streets, wearing nothing but that dreadful revealing cheaplooking dress that barely procured protection to my skin from the cold freezing weather of Meddelin in the dark nights of Octobre...and the hungry perveted looks I was receiving.

They made my skin crawl in pure disgust and mostly fear. I was scared and hungry, I had nothing on me and no one by my side but my internal incessant prayers for a higher force to save me. I knew I didn't deserve salvation, I the daughter of a drug dealer and...a hooker.

In all of the 23 years I'd lived so far, I did nothing to be mentioned, I had been nothing but a burden to my parents and they had made sure to remind me of it every single day.

I had lost hope in humans, if the person that birthed me threw me to sell my flesh to the cold-hearted creatures that lurk in the darkness, hiding in the street corners of Medellin, watching me closely with cold expressionless eyes, robbing me of the last bit of innocence I had left in the ruined misguided soul that I was, I did not know what to expect from others so I had to pray, grasping at the last string of faith that kept me alive, clinging to it with all that I can give.

The spiritual relief that believing in a God grants some peace within people and I needed that relief. I envied whoever was so sure that there is indeed a creator, a higher force in control of what's happening in this vile merciless world, an afterlife where they could meet their loved ones and start over if they haven't led the life they had wanted in the few trivial years they spent on earth.

I didn't believe in God...until that day.

I was leaning against some random wall with grafitties, swear sentences in spanish filled most of it. It was harsh and humid but it was the only thing I could lean on as I waited for a possible client, someone decent enough so I wouldn't end up vommiting myself.

I was doing exactly what my mother had told me, and not because she asked me to, I simply needed a strangers' body to collide with mine and provide a momentarily feeling of warmth. Although their agressive side usually took over...they stared at me with hunger, they bit my skin ferociously and I would start to feel cold again under their harsh gaze and judgement.

They threw whatever they had in their pockets and did not spare me a single glance before their departure. I'd stare with disgust at the amount of money they had left on the ground. Sometimes it was enough, sometimes it wasn't and when it wasn't, I found myself wondering, 

_Was it worth the trouble?_

It was quiet, but not too quiet. Some kids played football with a rusty flat Coca-Cola can, the sound of it scraping against the ground as it flew from on foot to another was unbearable. They cheered happily, innocently, unaware of the filth that surrounds them and I was jealous.

I envied them so much.

Then there was some random homeless drunkard, finding refuge under a large dirty box. I couldn't see his face but I could hear his voice, as he hummed an unknown tune. It was rough and most of it came out sluggish but I didn't care, I loved how the hurt in his voice talked on my behalf.

I could feel his eyes on me, he wanted me, he'd always wanted me but he couldn't afford me, I was far from his reach and he could barely afford to feed himself, let alone spend a few minutes with me. Thus he was contented with staring at me, allowing his mind to fantasize about something he couldn't have and I let him be, for I pitied him so much.

He was just as damaged as I was, and to know I wasn't the only lost soul on this earth...I was grateful to know that I'm not the only outcast in this world.

My thoughts were soon interrupted when I saw **_him_** approaching. I couldn't tell if it was me imagining things but there was light surrounding him, an aura of prestige emitted from him and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I had opened my mouth in surprise and struggled to breath with every step he took towards me, his short platform shoes clicked against the harsh humid ground.

He didn't look like he was from around the neighborhood...he was clean and he smelled good. I took a deep breath when he passed past me, barely sparing me a glance, and I felt like I had a taste of something I could never have.

He reeked of expensive cologne, I couldn't recall when was the last time I had smelled one. Perhaps on my father, back when we weren't so poor, back when he wasn't in jail.

My nose had been abused with the smell of unhygienic genitalia from the ones who had taken advantage of my body, and the stench of sewer rising from below the ground.

It felt nice, for once, to smell something that didn't burn my eyes or triggered my gag reflex.

My eyes widened when I heard a gun shot.

I let out a quiet gasp as I lifted my back off the wall and stared around me; the kids frantically dispersed like wild animals, searching for a place to hide. The homeless drunkard ran for his life, wobbling around, his mind hazy and incapable of thinking straight.

I was to make a run for it myself but when I turned right, I almost bumped into **him**. My breath got caught in my throat, I couldn't move, I didn't dare to move...not when he's the one who shot the gun...

I could see it in his dark eyes staring right back at mine, he wasn't scared. There was so sign of panic in his face and that led me to assume he's the one responsible of the chaos. But **I** was scared, I was trembling in fear and I knew I couldn't hide how terrified I was.

Gun shots...they're obnoxiously ear-splitting and I could still hear the ringing in my ears. It wasn't the first time I heard one, it was quite the routine in that god forsaken neighborhood but I had never been that close to realize how strong the sound can be , and I certainly had never been face to face with whom ever was behind it.

He smiled and it took me off guard. I half expected him to shoot me down, my eyes constantly flickering to the gun he had in his large hand. Instead, he hid the weapon right above the end of his back, his tight pants holding it securely.

It was only then I allowed myself to study his attire. He was dressed in a white button up dress shirt, tucked inside dark beige bell bottoms...and the iconic black platform shoes. They were quite trendy in the seventies.

"These people just don't seem to understand...a debt is a debt," he chuckles to himself and mumbles some incomprehensible nonsense. I had no idea what he was talking about or maybe that's what I had convinced myself. I knew this man was no good but I remembered the somewhat angelic aura that engulfed him earlier, and a part of me chose to believe he was sent to me from above.

"What is a beautiful woman like you doing in these streets? With so little fabric on?"

He stared me up and down but it wasn't sexual, he just didn't like the way I was dressed. I could see a hint of disgust on his tanned face and I wanted nothing more but the earth to crack open and swallow me whole.

I was embarrassed.

"I'm Manuel," his expression changes into a soft one, "...and you are?" He smiles widely at me, his eyes closed, and it scared me how casual he was being with me.

But mostly, I panicked. I didn't know what to say, my name is associated to one of the most notorious drug dealers in South America, and I didn't want to have anything to do it. I was ashamed to be related to them, I didn't choose to be born into that family.

I didn't even chose to be born let alone lead a life of disgrace and dishonor. 

The ravenahaired man, supposedly named Manuel, stared at me with an impatient expression. "Can't you speak?...Do you not talk spanish?" he groans loudly as he scratches the back of his head, tilting his head to the side, and my eyes frantically searched around me.

I needed to speak before he decides to shoot a hole through my brain.

I caught the sight of a large red lollipop, drawn into the wall I was previously leaning on, before my peace was disturbed by this outside, and without thinking twice, I found myself opening my mouth.

"Candy." 

My voice was shaky and higher than usual. I cringed at myself for many reasons but mostly the name I chose sounds like something straight out of a strip club. In a way, I was a stripper. Actually, I was worse...

"You want candy?" he furrowed his eyebrows at me, confusion visible on his olive skin that shined under the dim lights of the street, "I don't really have candy on me right now."

I shook my head furiously, gulping the lump in my throat. My only concern was why he hasn't killed me yet. I was nothing but a rock standing in his way, and he had the means to eliminate me. In all honestly, I was flattered but my bladder was under so much pressure and the last thing I needed is to die with a pool of piss surrounding me.

"My name is...Candy," I breathed out those words, squinting at the terribe choice of name. I was internally reprimanding myself for not choosing a somewhat believable one, and it was a bit late for me to take back what I had just said.

I was surprised when he didn't make a snarky comment. Hell, it was a miracle he didn't burst out in laughters right then and there because If I were him, I would've. Instead, he nods quietly and he seems to be busy with his own thoughts. It got quiet for a moment and I decided to step aside, maybe he'd show some mercy and let me live. For someone who had quite the crappy life and sappy background story, I sure as hell didn't want to leave this world... at least not yet.

I froze when I realized he was watching my every movement, I stared right in front of me, refusing to meet his dark brown orbs. I prayed he would just leave and let me be but deep down, I was curious...of what it'd feel like to die on his hands. And deep down, I was convinced he was my savior, my knight in shining armor, the one who'd help rise from ashes and be rebirthed again. I could finally choose my family...and I would be a liar if I deny how tempting it was...that offer. 

My thought were contradicting themselves and all I could do was keep a blank face as he raised his hand to grab my chin and I shivered at how warm his skin was against mine. I was aware that he had just murdered someone but I had been tossed around like a dirty used washcloth, so much so, his hand felt soft even when it was rough. He softly turned my face and I blinked furiously.

"Candy," he quietly moans my name. It wasn't erotic or anything like that, after all he did make it clear that he wasn't the biggest fan of my very vulgar outfit. There was no way he was turned on by what he was seeing right now.

His thumb brushed over my jaw and it somehow reassured me. I lift my eyes and they meet his. 

He smiled proudly; he had gained me on his side. 

"Join me ...and you'll never have to be this scared...never again."

I knew he knew I was terrified to the core. However, I was no longer afraid of him, I was afraid he'd leave me in this shit hole that was the neighborhood. I didn't want him to let go of me and move on, I wanted him to take in and his invitation seemed like everything I needed to hear in that moment.

That night, I died.

And no, Manuel didn't shoot a bullet in my head.

I killed myself, my old petty weak self. I closed my eyes and a hot tear burned my skin as it coursed down my cheek. I grieved for a second...to let the person I was know that I wished things had taken a different turn, and that I loved her...so much. 

I hated to lose her but sacrifices had to be made.

I was reborn.

I became Candy.


End file.
